192 



THE BROOK BOOK 



the tier of cocoons was hung the imperfect orb- 

 web of the labyrinth spider, glistening in the 

 October sunlight. 



I found several of these nurseries on that trip. 

 The spiders had taken possession of many bare 

 shrubs along the path to the brook. How careful 

 they always were to attach their cables to twigs, 

 and not to the transient leaves! 



When I finally reached the small bridge which 

 spans Clear Brook it was nearly time to go home. 

 I had time to stand with my hands on the railing 

 and talk back at the water. Mechanically my 



fingers picked away at the 

 small tree trunk which 

 formed the top of the 

 railing. A great sheet of 

 bark peeled off in my 

 hand, and revealed as fine 

 a bit of wood carving as 

 one might see in many a 

 long day. The engraver 

 beetle had been there 

 before me and had evi- 

 dently reared a numerous 

 and most skilful family. I 

 could only judge of their 

 number by the tunnels 

 they had made, and of 

 their skill by the neatness 

 and regularity with which 

 they followed the pattern 

 set by their master. I 



ENGRAVED BY FAMILY OF BEETLES 



